![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE ∞ May 2025
Test Drive ∞ May 2025
The First Collision
The Diadem is an invite-only panfandom game set in a retro-futuristic world where uprooted souls find themselves deep within an eerie wasteland of roads and highways frequently assailed by cosmic storms. Three united strongholds keep the population. Its capital is Panorama, a large metropolis at the planet's center.
Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.
But first, you need to find a ride.
Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.
But first, you need to find a ride.
No invites needed to play on the TDM. Everyone's welcome! Use the Invite Request thread below to request an invite from another player.
∞ Summary ∞
IC-wise, arrivals are scattered throughout the month. Events described on the TDM are also ongoing throughout the month. If you'd rather jump right into the action, you're free to begin in media res with your character having already been on the planet for several days.
Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
- Pick an injury. At minimum, they got knocked out; at most, whatever they can recover from. Medicine is decently advanced so they'll heal faster if not painlessly.
- Decide items kept. Reasonable items on their person only: photos, keys, clothes, costumes. No pets or animal companions. Wildly out-of-place tech and personal cell phones will be damaged beyond repair.
- Select a weapon. Do this only if eligible. Guidelines about weapons and powers are on the FAQ.
- Choose a vehicle. Decide whether your character gets 2-3 options or if they're stuck with something they hate. Players can pick directly from our collection or source their own images. Anything under a similar aesthetic will work. If your character needs accommodations for driving, they can have them. Ask us for details.
- Get a phone. Characters have to obtain a phone (and a SIM card) themselves. If they've got one from home, it's damaged beyond repair. Phones are cheap. It'll only take a couple of weeks to afford one. You need to know the number before you text or call anyone. Read about phones and the Forum before you hop on it.
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
Fluxdrift
Arrival & Introduction
Date: Throughout May
You've tumbled over a cliff. You were fighting for your life. You're on the cusp of death. You slipped in the shower. Whatever the catalyst, you struggle to cling to consciousness. As darkness overtakes you, a swirling vortex warps light and shadow in a way that defies all physics. A dark wail etches into your very bones. You couldn't describe it if you tried. You can barely comprehend what it is.
Then you open your eyes.
Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.
You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.
Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.
You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.
Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: a flat tire; a body on the road (is it a trap?); a fender bender
Panorama
Explore & Settle In
Conditions: Warm spring temperatures, light showers
After 2 hours on the road, you find civilization. The largest of the strongholds, Panorama is where the economy thrives. Massive power plants glowing red make it visible from a distance. The city is divided into three districts. For now, you can access the Pavilion and the Blocks. Don't worry about the Sanctum; they're not letting you in.
You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.
You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.
The Pavilion: Free Samples
Like any large city, Panorama features a couple of supermarkets. The stock's not as consistent as a proper supermarket. On occasion, shelves can remain cleaned out for a week or two. Regardless, the long tradition of free samples remains. If you're not already shopping, you'll notice the crowded parking lot and clusters of lines inside.
Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.
As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.
Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.
As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.
Samples include: steamed cabbage dumplings, synthetic cherry juice, cheddar cheese, and chocolate-covered alien eggs (it's crunchy and weirdly tasty). They're served in the usual throwaway paper cups with little toothpicks.
The Blocks: Power Outage
Power's finicky in Panorama, especially in the Blocks. Saint Margery's Hospital, located in the same area, has priority for power so the first to go are the motels. Maybe you've been in your room for a couple of weeks, maybe you just got here—and by the way, every motel desk is happy to put the fee on your tab if you don't have the money upfront—but all the motels on the east side are in a blackout, leaving only the west side motels up and running.
What do you do? You have three choices:
What do you do? You have three choices:
- Risk leaving your room and head to the other side where there's power. Knock on some doors and negotiate with another to share the room. They might shut the door in your face, ask for a favor in return, or be nice enough to help you with no strings attached. There's no guarantee your unattended room will be untouched, though, and you'll be on the hook for any damages an intruder causes.
- Sit in the dark and deal. It's not the worst idea, but the TV's down, the vending machines are powered down, and with the entire place plunged into darkness, you risk getting robbed. If you struggle with defending yourself, you might want to find some trustworthy company. You can also sneak out of there and let them take your leftover pizza. It's not like you've got a ton of valuables, right? Plus, clobbering someone in the face with a frying pan sounds great until you realize you've gotta do something with the body. And what if this person's got a friend waiting?
- Get in your car and drive (or grab a friend for a road trip). If you scroll the Forum, you might notice reports on diffusion zones southward. Besides, these motels are hardly your forever home. The city can only provide so much. Why not go for a ride and see what you can find out there?
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: clean up on aisle 3 (what is that goo?); a knock at your door but no one's there; you hear screaming or a commotion down the hall
The Fringes
Quad 3: Lockdown
Conditions: Stormy, with flooding roads
Felix Bjurstrom
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57
> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57
> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.
Through the open windows, a computer awakens and displays a cheerful smile. The lights inside switch on.
Pick your scenario role below. Your thread partner doesn't need to take the opposite role! They can join you in the same scenario (i.e. trapped together). Players are also free to create a generic NPC for the other side to facilitate the thread.
After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.
After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.
A: Sealed In
As you peer through the windows, you see crates of medicine floating around. Antibiotics in the diadem are valuable. Hospitals and doctors are always buying. You can keep it for yourself or make a quick buck. Or maybe you're compelled to help somebody back in the city who's in need. Whatever the reason, you decide to take the risk and step inside.
Water splashes around your ankles. The lock buzzes behind you. If you try to break the windows, you discover they're unnaturally resistant to shattering. With the whole place locked tight, the water begins to churn. Then the computer lights up again.
Warning, it flashes in large, bold text. Quarantine in progress. Release code required for exit.
- To find the code, you'll have to search. Duck under the water, go through sopping envelopes and sticky notes or pick the locks on the filing cabinets and desk drawers. You can also try hacking the computers. Use your computer knowledge or fall back on the age-old trick of seeing who wrote down their password.
- The files, notepads, and emails start innocuous, but as you look through them, disturbing phrases jump out at you—a dark thought you've had or a cruel taunt from someone in your past. The longer you're fixed on the terrible words, the higher the water begins to rise. Only another can break you out of your trance.
- With the rising water comes fear. And the more you're afraid, the more the water also rises. You begin to see faces in the water, bobbing like balloon heads. Do you recognize them? If you move to take a closer look, they will sink back beneath the surface as if never there.
- If you manage to swallow your panic, you can eventually find a triple-laminated binder with the release code and instructions. Bad news: you need someone on the outside to punch in the 6 strange symbols in order. The instructions explain that the code panel is located at the back of the building.
B: Set Free
As you peer through the windows, you see not just the crates of medicine but someone trapped inside. They look like they might be in trouble, and from your vantage point, you notice that the water is bubbling strangely. It's definitely not normal rainwater. As you watch, the water rises unnaturally, stopping and starting. It's as if the water level is responding to an external stimulus.
- The glass is soundproof. You can't hear what the person inside is saying, so you'll have to communicate with each other another way. Try charades, typing on your phone, or whatever you think of. Eventually, you determine that they're stuck and that you need to enter some sort of code onto a pad located—according to your trapped partner—at the back of the building.
- Around the back, shadows swallow your surroundings. The panel must be pried open, but a slippery substance makes it hard to get a good grip. Each time the substance touches you, you grow uneasy. You swear you see eyes watching you, though when you turn around, nothing's there.
- You can't seem to keep the instructions in your mind. And those symbols...they burn into your retinas. Through them, you glimpse an incomprehensibly massive figure unfurling in the darkness, pulsing as if in a deep sleep. When you snap back to reality, you realize you've injured yourself, slicing your hand on a sharp edge or a bruise you can't remember getting.
- Once you manage to release the doors, the water inside the office drains upward into the sky as though sucked out by a giant hose. The darkness spreads. Get out of there fast before the shadows drag you or your partner into the void.
Main Navigation ::: ⇅
Top
no subject
(And if he holds on tight as he can, what happens if she still slips right out of his grasp?)(Shut the hell up, Barton, and enjoy this.)(She's alive. She's here. It's better than dead and dust.)(Is it?)
His arms give her a crushing hug in return, knowing that of the many things Wanda is, weak is not on the list. He presses a kiss into her hair and feels just a little bit better for the fact that she's real. And sad and lost and join the club, honestly, but they can be sad and lost together.
Except. She says something that confuses him, and her shakes his head a little. Finding his voice, rough and thick but at least present instead of hiding away behind layers of grief.] Yeah, I know you did. We all did. That was years ago.
no subject
she pulls away, at arm's length, to look him in the eyes, searching. )
Years? No, I was there, just a few days ago, until I arrived—
( wanda stops herself, inching back a bit more, hands at his arms. )
You look older.
( not by a lot, mind, but significantly enough that what she sees now, of him, doesn't match her most recent memory of his face. he is bound to notice how much younger wanda looks, too, to the memories he has of her when she last visited him, while on the run with sam and steve and natasha. )
...and you're all beaten up?
no subject
But that sentiment clearly wouldn't quite hit the same if he said it out loud. She's confused. And it's funny, because she looks exactly the same as when he last saw her.
Minus the awful collar and jumpsuit they put her into. He can see the marks left behind.]
Yeah, it's the age. [The dry humor at least hasn't vanished. It took being around the gang again to bring it back out.] Promise the two aren't related. ...Or they're not directly related, anyway. [One could argue he's beaten up because of the years on him making him need a way to get some fight out of him without necessarily resorting to killing again. But y'know. Semantics.]
Wanda. It's been seven years. For me. Since the Raft.
no subject
quietly, she does the maths in her head, thinks of yom crook and his brief explanation about fluxdrifts. tries to — consider what it all means, what potentiality for the absurd there is, like people from the same world, but different timespaces, to be here, together.
despite what clint would prefer, wanda does draw her hands away, hugging her arms to her middle; a defensive action, one she'd always do when she is feeling uncertain, worried, or scared. still, she doesn't step away, leaning only slightly against the side of the table with the register.
she swallows — changes the topic, but not by much. )
Is it just us?
no subject
He suddenly doesn't know what to do with his hands, and he kind of wants to reel her back in, but he doesn't want to seem clingy. They rest at his sides. They stay still. He's always been good at stillness.]
I don't know. You're the first face, friendly or un-, I've recognized since I got here. Guessing if you're asking that, the same goes for you.
no subject
her expression grows even more somber.
genuinely? she doesn't want to know. )
It's kind of nice.
( she admits, blunt honesty, because wanda's never cut corners regarding what she means with her words. )
Being away from all of that.
( in the meantime, she will consider him, see where he's at when she says that. )
no subject
Maybe. Maybe from her perspective, from being in the Raft, from being feared, from being a scapegoat on the political landscape.
Is it nice? For him to be away from being a vigilante so steeped in blood he's wading in it, away from a world (a universe) where half the people are gone and the other half are wandering around blankly trying to wake up from five years of a bad dream, to be in a place where he gets the chance to be semi-normal but with just enough weirdness to keep him on his toes.
It would be nice to live in a world with his family again. But if he gives that thought more than just the briefest little glance, it'll grab him by the ankles and pull him under.]
Seeing you's the first real concrete evidence I've got that maybe I'm not dead.
[Which isn't really a response to whether this is kind of nice or not, but a realization that starts to settle in. If she's here, and the last thing she remembers is the Raft and not a couple years on the run, then she can't be dead, right? And if she's not dead, then he's not dead.
Isn't that nice.]
no subject
wanda may have her own issues and turmoils, but clint is clint: the man her brother died saving; who took her in and guided her, past his own familial responsibilities; who encouraged her to have a choice in those crucial moments when she felt like floundering and giving up. )
...you can't confidently say you aren't dreaming this, though.
( with a sigh, she lets a smile pull on her face, gentle, before it fades as she reaches out with a hand to squeeze his arm. )
I'll be done with my shift in less than half an hour. ( —she starts walking back towards the other side of the table, to ring up his items. ) Wait here and we can — have dinner together?
no subject
That would-- [There's a traitor thought that suggests that's too nice a thing for him to accept. Natasha's dead and the others might have come back and for everything he did, everything he has done, he doesn't get to have nice things. If he could take the thought out back and shoot it, he would, but for now, he can only acknowledge it, tell it to shut up, and push it back from under the bed it came from. He nods.] That would be nice. Yeah, I'd like that.
no subject
she ties a neat bow on the plastic bag, handing it over to him after he's paid. )
...I'm just letting you know, I'm not — I'm actively trying not to listen to your thoughts.
( (because she had caught on the sentiment of feeling small, and she hates it. she hates that he feels that way, that she knows he feels exactly that way.) )
I don't know what happened that got you like this, and I don't know if I want to know. But you're still Clint to me. You never abandoned me, and you always looked after me. That's who you are to me.
( wanda isn't good at comforting others, or at saying the right things, but she hopes that much helps him, for now. )
no subject
[Usually it's his face that's the dead giveaway that he's thinking something very very hard but not saying it. It's fine, look, he can joke. He can make a funny. He isn't completely gone.
It's just a lot. It's a lot to take in. Even if the hail mary of bringing everyone back worked, and he thinks it did, has confirmation even, that alone doesn't erase five years of pain and his fresh grief over Natasha. But this helps. Wanda helps. Wanda's always helped, giving back when she could.
Like now. You're still Clint to me. The idea that to her, he's a good man, that he's still himself even if he doesn't always recognize himself in the mirror sometimes... That helps. It does. It eases something across his shoulders, makes him hold his head just a little higher.]
You can ask whatever you want or nothing at all.
[And he'll be honest. He always is, with her. He awkwardly lifts the bag a little.] I'm gonna go...put this away, and then by the time I come back, we can go somewhere. Anywhere you want, okay?
no subject
( her answer is quick before he can even finish his sentence, knowing what he's trying to say and not needing him to finalize the thought. she does wonder a little about what he's bought—a few snacks, some bandages, nothing really specific, but she won't judge. they don't pay her enough for that.
she will see him go, offering him a small smile as he looks back, probably wondering if he hasn't imagined the whole thing. wanda will continue on with her shift, clean up a little, and wait for the person covering for her for the graveyard shift.
apron tucked away into her bag to have it cleaned up at the laundromat, a wallet she found at a thrift shop, and her old phone, she — wonders if maybe she should have asked clint for his number? but she's glad to see him right outside as she steps out, just like he said he would.
the air is humid from the rain a few hours ago. )
How about some noodles? ( a pause— ) Do you have a car?
( he probably does. wanda's bike is parked behind the store, but she'd rather travel with him for now. )
no subject
But she's still there. She still exists even after he turns his back. And she's still there when he comes back almost in a daze. At least this place stays constant. Not like out there, where some cosmic interdimensional rift or whatever makes things exist temporarily, or exist wrong, or not exist at all. This place is purportedly safe. Maybe. At least he seems--not happier, exactly, but in lighter spirits to see her.]
Yeah. [To both questions, but he should probably be more specific.] Noodles sound good. And I've got a car. Do you not have a car? Does everyone get a vehicle or did I just wake up in the weirdest junkyard ever?
no subject
No, I also woke up in that junkyard. I got a motorcycle.
( for some reason that still eludes her. )
Some guy helped me bring it into the city. ( since she was neither prepared nor feeling healthy enough to ride two whole hours all on her own. ) I can come pick it up later — I just don't have a lot of gas right now, so.
( just enough to get back to the motel and a little more, as she waits for her paycheck to come through to cash out those joolies. before he starts worrying, she adds, with a hint of humor, )
The Avengers never taught me to budget. Can I complain to you about that, or am I just screwed at this point?
no subject
[She'd pointed out him looking beat up, right? He'd focused more on the older comment, and boy does he feel like the lines on his face must be standing the hell out from that, but he's not exactly a spring chicken now.] You ever see Fight Club? Like, you know how the first rule about it is you don't talk about it? I'll break that rule and say I'm kind of in a fight club on the side. Extra payouts. Saving up, you know. For gas and whatever else. Tinker with the car, I guess.
[The car, like many around, looks like it's seen better days. But it's got some protection, which isn't nothing. The roll cage makes for a sturdy place to fix the tarp to as a makeshift roof against the rain. Which does mean it's not the driest seat in the house, but it's also drier than it could be.
Drier than a motorcycle out in the rain, anyway.]
no subject
which isn't exactly anything to call home about, in her mind, once she sees the model they're walking towards. )
I have a backpack. ( re: hauling things and scavenging, which is not something that has crossed her mind at all. she scrunches her nose as he continues, though; fight club... him?
hm. ) It sure looks like it needs tinkering.
( someone else would scold him for getting into fights; it's clearly leaving him with new bruises on his body. but she won't do that, and asks, instead, )
Are you trying to say I should join a fight club, to save up?
no subject
I think if I suggested you join a fight club, I'd get a talking to. I'm not sure who from, but I'd deserve it. That said, [and he gets a wicked little smile on his face] you could beat anyone who comes at you in a blink. You wouldn't even have to touch 'em.
[But also don't join fight club plzkthx.
Look, at least this car has doors, which is more protection than a motorcycle is going to give when running into trouble. Is he going to make fun of a motorcycle though? Of course not, she probably looks badass on it, and it may have been the only option.] Your chariot awaits. She's not fancy, but she runs. Sounds like that's the most anyone can ask for around here.
no subject
shrugging at calling his car 'not fancy', wanda does think it's funny—because clint should think it's quite something, even if it looks a little more battered up than a brand new car. letting go of his arm, wanda goes to the side passenger door, lets herself inside. )
I think this kind of car fits you.
( (she really hopes he doesn't read a lot into it; it just seems like something he would like to hear.)
once settled, she waits for him to get in and drive them. )
...I don't want people to know of what I do.
no subject
[Given the history, though, it's more than that. It's so weird to think, that her recent memory meant her powers, the things she's capable of with them, got her cuffed and collared and put in a veritable straitjacket out of fear. He lets out a huff of air.]
You don't wanna hurt anyone, and you don't want to cause any incidents. You don't want undue attention in a place you don't know. Head down, lay low. It's smart.
no subject
part of her knows that clint would understand, wouldn't tell her to do otherwise, but it's almost as if wanda is expecting to be told it's not a good idea.
it feels good to hear him say it's smart.
she nods, feeling a little more reassured by him. this makes her relax, her answers less clipped, less rehearsed. she reaches for the radio dial, tries to find a working station with some music, feeling comfortable. )
Yeah. ( she shrugs ) It's a lot harder to make friends when they can't trust that I'm not reading their mind, even if I tell them I'm not.
( surely that won't backfire— )
Pietro made friends easy. I... want to be like that. ( "normal", to whatever extent of the word that can be. she leans back on her seat once she finds a radio station playing some quick rock music. ) I arrived with the Raft's uniform. A lot of people offered me rides despite that. ( she scrunches her nose, but there's a clear tone in her voice to indicate she's joking as she says: ) Weirdos.
no subject
Attitude like his, I bet he also made enemies easy. [There's always going to be some guilt about Pietro. He didn't have to do what he did, the speedy little shit. But Wanda's never hated Clint for it. Even if she wouldn't be wrong to. So yeah, he feels he can make a joke. It's also true; making friends easy also makes one susceptible to the opposite effect.] But it's good to want to reach out and make allies here on your own merits. Decide if someone's safe to confide in first before you go 'hey, FYI, I can read your mind if I want to and sometimes I'll feel your emotions anyway'. Real friends will work with you about it rather than run away.
[Because god knows that there could've been drastically different circumstances for them ending in something much worse. They're lucky in a way, for things to have turned out the way they did. Her part of a team, instead of alone, isolated, alienated.
The alienation still happened anyway, sure, but she still had friends willing to stand up for her.]
Now, young lady, do we need to have a conversation about getting picked up by strangers?
[He's joking. She can handle herself if someone gets weird or handsy. She was getting trained by actual-ass Avengers even without magic in spades to back her up. But he's gotta pull that dad/big brother attitude anyway. It's just baked into his DNA at this point.
And he hasn't gotten to flex those muscles in years.]
no subject
she turns to him, thankful that clint gets it without wanda having to say too much to explain her position. she adds, after pointing at him. )
Exactly that.
( the avengers took her in, sure, but after pietro was gone she lacked something very important: friends. it's not that wanda didn't want to be of service, to do good with her powers; joining the avengers certainly was the best way for her to do that. it's been so long since she's had to work to make friends, though, and her powers add another dimension of complexity to it.
though she tsks as he starts acting like a dad (more so than a big brother, in her mind), as clint is prone to do, and her eyes roll as she looks away and out the window. it works, though; she's smiling a touch. )
Would it make you feel better to have that conversation? I can give you their names if you want the embarrassing task of talking to them directly.
no subject
He also hits the brakes here in the car, if only because someone's swerving like a maniac who has potentially had one too many tonight, and he leans angrily on the horn a few times, giving the person a pointedly Russian curse. Gosh, can't imagine where he picked that one up from.]
Shit, nothing ever changes. [They take a wobbly turn where Clint keeps going straight. His eyes track details. (Does anyone use plates in the post-apocalypse?) Like he might keep an eye out for that same car later.] It's not near as busy, but it still feels like New York.
no subject
thankfully, the conversation easily changes subject with the sudden stop. she's glad she's put on the seatbelt, wincing as it burns against her collarbone at the inertia.
good thing reacting quickly is one of hawkeye's fortes. )
This is why I got a motorcycle. ( she mutters, as clint gets friendly with the horn. she rubs at her shoulder where the seatbelt stopped her from flinging forward. it's not that she could have known, though; a smaller vehicle feels like it would definitely help avoid these traffic issues in retrospect.
she's sure she heard something right, however. ) You speak Russian now?
( the swear in russian; not quite like sokovian, but close enough in its roots for her to know the gist of it. )
no subject
[Obviously. And the thought is so fond that it aches wildly inside him, so he pivots, refocuses, as he pulls up near a half-decent place for food without any further incident.]
Wait until I pull out the creative German curses. Now there's a language that knows how to construct an incredibly long word out of a bunch of smaller, evocative words.
(no subject)